


Just a Chat Between Friends

by NB_Cecil



Series: Doctors and Lizards [22]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: But he does open up a bit and admit vulnerability, Caring Julian, Delavian Chocolates, Delavian Chocolates as a symbol of caring, Developing Friendships, Elim Garak/Cardassia - Freeform, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Especially when the tea is Tarkalean, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Garak Trusts No-One, Garak is as secretive as ever, Garak is lonely, Garak likes surveillance, Garak needs a shit-ton of therapy, Gen, Gratuitous Never Ending Sacrifice Reference, It’s lonely in exile, Julian is a good friend, M/M, Obsidian Order Habits Die Hard, One could read it as pre-slash if one was so inclined, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Kissing, Platonic Relationships, fluff and feelings, platonic fluff, s03e21 The Die is Cast, tea fixes everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-25 10:13:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18259223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NB_Cecil/pseuds/NB_Cecil
Summary: Post-The Die is Cast, Bashir drops by Garak’s quarters after his return from the Gamma Quadrant.





	Just a Chat Between Friends

The door slid open as Bashir raised his hand to activate the chime. 

“Come in, my dear.” Garak didn’t look up from the coffee table where he was arranging a stack of padds. 

“How did you—?”

“My dear doctor,” Garak cut him off. “It’s a little late to be doing house calls, isn’t it?”

“Oh, I’m... er... here to see how you’re doing actually... As a friend.” Bashir fumbled as his stepped into the room, the door hissing closed behind him.

Turning to flash him one of his blandest smiles, Garak replied, “I’m fine, Doctor.”

“Really?” Bashir sidled over to the replicator as he spoke. “Odo told me you and he had quite a stressful time in the Gamma Quadrant, and your shop’s a mess. I thought maybe you could use a chat.” Garak shrugged noncommittally. “May I?” Bashir gestured to the replicator and, without writing for a reply, tapped in a code. Two glasses of tea materialised on the platen. 

“Well, it looks like I’m getting a... _chat_ whether I could use one or not.” Garak grumbled, fishing in his pocket nevertheless for the unopened packet of Delavian chocolates he’d taken to the Gamma Quadrant and back. He ran a thumb under the seal and placed the pack on the coffee table. Bashir handed him a glass and sat down, patting the empty cushion on the sofa beside him by way of invitation.

“So, how was it?” Bashir asked, blowing into his tea.

“How was what?”

“Your excursion to the Gamma Quadrant.” Bashir reached for a chocolate.

“Violent. Disappointing.” Garak’s tone was terse. “Can we _chat_ about something else?”

“Ok,” Bashir sighed, “What are you going to do about your shop?”

Garak took a long swallow of tea, breathing in the delicate aroma of the Tarkalean teaflowers infused in the drink as he did so. “Chief O’Brien says he’ll send an engineering crew to repair the wiring and bulkhead once the debris is cleared away. I need to sort through all the stock and fittings, see what can be salvaged—that’s going to take at least a week—and then...” He trailed off, staring out of the small window in the bulkhead.

After a few moments’ silence, Bashir placed a reassuring hand on his friend’s forearm. “Will you re-open?”

“Tain promised...” Garak kept his eyes resolutely fixed on the starscape outside, the crack in his voice betraying the careful mask of neutrality he wore on his face. “...That after our mission was complete I would return to Cardassia and my former—“ He glanced briefly over at Bashir “—profession as a gardener.” He finished, carefully.

Bashir pushed down the temptation to challenge the ‘gardener’ euphemism—now was not the time to berate the Cardassian for his secretiveness—and wrapped his arms around his friend, pulling him in so his head rested against Bashir’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out. If you’d like some help clearing the shop, I’m owed some leave. I can put in a request in the morning.” 

“Really?” Garak turned to look up at the Human. “You’d help me clear my shop?”

Bashir stroked his cheek tenderly. “I’m your friend, Garak. Of course I can help out.”

“Well,” Garak sighed, raising an eyebrow. He sat up and reached for his tea. “You _and_ Constable Odo.” 

“What?”

“He suggested he and I have breakfast together. It seems I am currently overrun with friends.”

Bashir gave him a sidelong glance. “Are you being sarcastic, Garak?”

“Trust me my dear, when I say that in four years of exile on this too-cold, too-bright rust bucket, living among aliens, the gestures of friendship the good constable and yourself have shown me today feel like an abundance.” 

Garak drained his glass, replaced it on the table, and leant back into his friend’s side. Bashir shifted on the cushions, getting comfy, and dropped a kiss on the top of Garak’s head. They lapsed into a comfortable silence.

**Author's Note:**

> Garak obviously has a homemade surveillance camera in the corridor outside his quarters so he knows who’s at the door before they ring the chime, duh. Most of those padds on the coffee table are for monitoring the door, Bashir’s replicator, Odo’s office, Bashir’s door, Quark’s holosuites, Bashir’s office in the Infirmary... etc., except for six padds which are full of various editions of _The Never Ending Sacrifice_.
> 
> Addendum 07/04/19:  
> Aaah, so I just found out the moment I remembered where Garak tells Bashir his breakfast choice is unhealthy was actually Odo telling Bashir his breakfast choice is unhealthy and now I’ve based a whole headcanon around Garak monitoring Bashir’s replicator useage and it was actually Odo all along. Oh well, I’m going to persist in this headcanon now because I’m invested.


End file.
